The Little Boy Lost
by K.Firefly
Summary: A shattered soul must eventually be fixed-or be destroyed. The story of Omi's abduction to when we meet him in the series, and how he has to adapt.
1. The First Change

Keywords: Omi, Mamoru  
  
Spoilers: all the episodes that reveal Omi's past.  
  
Disclaimer: DAG, but how I wish I owned this guys. Turns out I don't. Ah well.  
  
Authors Notes: This idea has been formulating for some time, and I just had to sit down and write it. PLEASE write comments! I really don't care if it's a flame, because it lets me know that you actually took your time to sit down and read it. (Er, on retrospect, actually, I DO care if it's a flame. Those things hurt.) Criticism is good, also! It helps one learn.  
  
  
  
"Father, father, where are you going?  
  
Oh, do not walk so fast!  
  
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,  
  
Or else I shall be lost."  
  
The night was dark, no father was there,  
  
The child was wet with dew;  
  
The mire was deep, and the child did weep,  
  
And away the vapour flew."  
  
-William Blake  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Little Boy Lost  
  
  
  
"Mamoru! Watch out for electric sparks!" Hirofumi called desperately from his brother's side. The child, startled by his older brother's sudden outburst failed to move fast enough and watched with dismay as his little Link got caught in a burst of electricity, sending his health down.  
  
"Ni-sannnnn! You startled me! I could see it!"  
  
"What dungeon is this, anyway?"  
  
"Four."  
  
"Have you gotten The Master Key yet?"  
  
"No, I'm just about to...Ah-ha! There!" Mamoru smiled victoriously as the small Link on the screen opened up the chest and The Master key was added to his inventory.  
  
"You're moving through this pretty fast, I'm impressed!"  
  
"Thankssss, Ni-san! Oiiiii! Why isn't the boss in his room?" The golden hair child pouted as he reached the Boss' room, only to find that he wasn't there. His brother laughed from beside him.  
  
"You don't think it would be that easy to beat a Zelda dungeon, did you?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"You should know better then that," Hirofumi paused for a moment as he watched his youngest brother continue walking Link through the dungeon. "You know, this game is so much better then "Adventures of Link." I'm glad they decided to come out with another sequel, one as good, or better then the original! You've played "The Legend of Zelda", haven't you?"  
  
"Yeah," Mamoru responded distantly, his concentration focused entirely on the game.  
  
"Are you guys still playing that dumb game?" A new voice entered the previously peaceful conversation, and both Hirofumi and Mamoru turned to glare at their other brother, Masafumi.  
  
"Shutup," Hirofumi's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Why should I?" Masafumi taunted, an ugly sneer on his thin face.  
  
"Ni-san, let's just ignore him," Mamoru whispered, tugging on his brother's shirt.  
  
"Ne, Mamoru-*chan*," Masafumi put extra emphasis on the ending, making it  
  
sound like an insult, "You shouldn't send so much time near Hirofumi."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because then you'll end up being a hopeless loser, just like him!"  
  
"Shut up!" Mamoru climbed to his feet, the game temporarily forgotten. "I'm gonna tell dad!"  
  
"Haha, you can't! Dad hates being disturbed, you'll just get in more trouble!" He then turned and ran, his laughing echoing down the halls.  
  
Disgruntled, the youngest boy turned around, plopping down in front of the Nintendo again. "I really hate him. Why does he have to be so mean?"  
  
"I don't know. Don't feel bad though, we'll get him back later," Hirofumi  
  
grinned down at his little brother.  
  
* * * *  
  
"He's one of the richest men in the city. It'll be an easy job, and we'll  
  
be set for life."  
  
"If we get caught, Daisuke..."  
  
"It won't be a problem. We won't even ask an outrageous amount. Besides,  
  
who doesn't want their darling, blonde-haired, blue-eyed child back?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"What's a few million yen to a billionaire anyway? Every parent feels their child is priceless. We'll make it clean and efficient. There's nothing to be worried about, Touru," Daisuke clasped his hand on his partner's shoulder, a dark smile on his face. Their relationship was an odd one, not a stereotypical leader and his crony. They were worked together out of necessity. They were poor, they needed money, but they didn't have the resources to do something extravagant. A kidnapping on the expansive Takatori  
  
grounds would be easy enough. They'd simply split the money and go their separate ways after that.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Mamoru! Get down from there!" Hirofumi crossed his arms, looking up at his brother, who'd managed to climb quite high in one of the many trees on their estate.  
  
"Nyahhh, Hirofumi! You can't make meeeee!" Mamoru sing-songed, laughing  
  
down at his brother.  
  
"What if you fall?!"  
  
"I won't! I'm like a monkey!"  
  
"A stupid monkey," Hirofumi muttered, though not in bad humor.  
  
"I'm not!"  
  
"You are!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"You areeee!"  
  
"Mamoru!"  
  
"You're just jealous you can't climb the tree!"  
  
"You wanna bet I can't climb it? I just wasn't doing it because it's too  
  
easy."  
  
"Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!"  
  
"Okay, that's it!" Hirofumi reached for the branch above him, looking up  
  
at his brother good naturedly. He had to act like a father to the child, since their dad was always working and never wanted to spend time with them. "Here I come!" He'd almost reached his brother when his pants got caught on one of the branches. He continued to pull upward, only to be met with a sickening tearing sound. "My pants! They're ruined!"  
  
"Ne, sucks for you."  
  
"Mamoru! Don't use that sort of language!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because it's a bad word!"  
  
"All the kids at school say it. I'm old enough!"  
  
"You're not 'all the other kids.'"  
  
"Aww...Hirofumiiiiii!"  
  
"Come on, we should get down, it's time for dinner, anyway."  
  
"And Ants on a Log?"  
  
"No, that's for snack," Hirofumi replied, slowly climbing down the tree. He hadn't climbed a tree for years, but he suddenly remembered the bad part about the whole thing: going down. It suddenly looked a lot farther.  
  
"I want Ants on a Log!"  
  
"I already said, you had that for snack!"  
  
"I want it for dessert, then."  
  
"We have ice cream for dessert."  
  
"I want both."  
  
"Maybe..." Hirofumi relented. It didn't make a big difference to him what his brother ate. Though, he couldn't understand his brother's obsession with celery and anything that would go on it.  
  
  
  
* * * **  
  
"We'll be able to make the abduction tomorrow. Takatori Mamoru spends the afternoon hours roaming and playing outside. His brothers usually do not bother him, we'll just move carefully."  
  
* * * *  
  
Mamoru sat quietly at the large dinner table. His father, surprisingly, was at the meal, sitting in the chair at the head of the table that was usually left empty. The presence of his father usually made him uncomfortable. He saw little of him, and so Takatori Reiji was almost like a stranger to the child now. There had been a time, in Mamoru's early life whenthings had been different. When his father had played with him and spent time  
  
with him. When he would be taken to the park and played happily in the sand while Masafumi and Hirofumi would play tag or swing, or go down the slides. But that had been many years ago, especially when time was amplified for a child of ten, and one year seemed like forever. He didn't mind so much, though. He just accepted things, though sometimes a bit stubbornly. If his dad needed to spend all his time working and never with him, he accepted it. It didn't hurt him; he didn't feel dejected. He expected one day, however, that things would go back to like they used to be so many years ago. It was only a matter of time, and that was something he thought he had plenty of. He was going to be ten forever.  
  
* * * *  
  
"I'm going out to play, Ni-san!"  
  
"Make sure you're back in time for snack."  
  
"Ants on a log?!"  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"Okay!" The ten year old then ran out the door. Hirofumi turned to watch him go, observing the sun's rays catching his bouncing hair, making it glow a beautiful gold. Shaking his head, smiling, he turned back to reading. He never had any inkling or feeling that it would be many years before he saw his brother again, and both will have  
  
changed very much in that time.  
  
* * * *  
  
"There he is," Daisuke spoke under his breath. He dropped down beside the  
  
kid, covering his mouth with the rag. The child crumpled instantly, and Daisuke was glad that it was going so well. "Come on kid, you're my ticket to riches." The large abductor threw the kid over his shoulder and easily made his way off the property and to the awaiting car. Luckily for them, no member of the Takatori family would ever have considered security on the large, remote premises.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"He's beautiful," Daisuke smiled darkly at the child resting against the  
  
wall, his arms tied tightly behind him, his feet bound the same.  
  
"Gold hair, especially in a Japanese child is rare. He's got to have foreign blood running through him," Touru looked up from his position at the large, cumbersome computer.  
  
"Huh? I'm talking about his value as money. That kid alone is worth 50 million yen. We'll be rich beyond our imagination! Have you made the call yet?"  
  
"Not yet. I thought that for dramatic affect, it'll be better to have  
  
them realize he's gone."  
  
"Yeah. Make them anxious. Good plan."  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"Masafumi? Have you seen Mamoru?"  
  
"No. Why do I care about that little brat?"  
  
"He missed snack, and now it's almost dinner. He's always home before this."  
  
"He probably lost track of time. He'll be here soon, I bet," The middle child replied in a bored tone.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
But six o' clock rolled around, and Mamoru still wasn't home .Hirofumi was almost having a fit, thinking the worst of all situations.  
  
"Where's Mamoru?" The deep voice that was his father suddenly broke through Hirofumi's worrying, and he looked up in surprise at his dad. He tried to recall the last time his dad had worried about the going ons of any of his children, and the last time he's spoken his youngest brother's name.  
  
"He went out to play and hasn't come back yet."  
  
"Go look for him after we're done eating," Reiji responded, seemingly unruffled by the information. Hirofumi stared at him, was that all the compassion his father had? Did he really care that little about Mamoru, about any of them? But that couldn't be. He used to spend so much time with them, used to hug them and take them places; buy them things. The oldest child considered carefully, looking back into the past, and suddenly realizing how much had changed. They no longer saw their Uncle Shuiichi, who used to visit them on a regular basis, either. Something big had happened, and he'd been oblivious to it.  
  
* * * *  
  
"You're awake," Daisuke crouched next to the child, whose eyes were  
  
widened in shock and fear.  
  
"Wha..what? Where's Hirofumi....??!!" Mamoru stuttered, uncomprehending  
  
the situation. His eyes suddenly welled up with tears. He was cold, he was hungry, and he didn't know where he was.  
  
"You've been kidnapped for ransom. We're hoping your daddy will pay lots  
  
of money for you," Daisuke smiled at Mamoru, but the child felt there was something wrong with it. It was cold, and didn't radiate the warmth that Hirofumi's did. It was like one of Masafumi's smiles when he crushed a butterfly or hurt something. It wasn't a true smile.  
  
For a while, the men did nothing. The bigger one paced the small confines  
  
of the room for a while before leaving. So, only he and the guy with the glasses who sat behind the computer were left. "You hungry?" Mamoru nodded. "I don't have much...we're counting on your ransom to make us rich, so we can buy things. We're out of food. Still.." Touru reached into his pocket and threw a smashed peanut butter and jelly to the golden haired child. "Oh, I suppose you can't eat it. Well, I could take the bonds of briefly..." Touru made to get up, with Daisuke suddenly barged in again.  
  
"What're you doing?"  
  
"I was gonna take the kid's bonds off so that he can eat."  
  
"Leave 'em. Hopefully, he'll be home soon enough."  
  
Shrugging, Touru sat down, casting a sympathetic look at the child sitting  
  
pitifully on the floor.  
  
* * * *  
  
Mamoru wanted to wipe away the tears from his face, but he couldn't. He'd  
  
tried to struggle out of the bombs, but they were tied tightly, and he'd only managed to raw the skin raw so that it hurt when he moved them at all. He was so hungry, and he was scared. New thoughts were bombarding him, things that had never occurred to him, and a small doubt was taking root in the back of his brain. A part of him had begun to realize that he might not be the invincible child he thought he was. But, the thought was still small, and larger concerns were on his mind. The most prominent one was that he had to  
  
go to the bathroom. Bad.  
  
"I hafta go to the bathroom..." He finally voiced, looking up at the large man, who abruptly stopped walking. He spoke after a minute's consideration.  
  
"Hold it."  
  
"It's midnight, I'm making the call," Touru called out to his partner,  
  
picking up the phone.  
  
"Excellent. Make it short, we don't want to get traced. I'm sure Reiji's got the place crawling with police."  
  
"I know," Touru responded, the turning his attention to the phone. "Takatori Reiji?" Touru waited a moment for the conformation. "We have your son. If you would like him back, leave 50 million in a suit case-" Touru paused for a moment as Reiji said something on the other end. His eyes suddenly went large. "No? What?" He listened for a minute before he hung up the phone, looking at it aghast.  
  
"What?!" Daisuke moved forward.  
  
"He just cut me short. He said he doesn't want the kid."  
  
There was a moment of silence in the room. It was broken by the sounds of  
  
Mamoru's sobbing. Touru looked at the child with pity in his eyes, Daisuke with disgust. They had risked a lot for a kid who turned out to be worthless.  
  
Mamoru curled into a tiny ball, ignoring the pain it caused his arms and  
  
wrists. A new emotion begin developing in him. One that none should ever have to feel, most of all, never a child. It was the feeling of not be wanted or loved. He'd felt as though a cold knife had been plunged into his heart, twisting around slowly as it tore out everything he'd held as fact and truth. He was overcome with horrible pain, and was swamped in the realizations that were hitting him with agonizing force. First and foremost was that he'd never get to see Hirofumi again. It was hard to understand all  
  
the repercussions outside of that because there were so many. He did not realize-not fully- that his soul had been broken and would have to be built over again. He did not  
  
realize that he had aged considerably in a matter of seconds. But he did realize that he was alone in a world that now seemed vast and cold.  
  
* * * *  
  
Touru looked contemplated the child. The news of his father not wanting him had visibly broken the kid. After he'd finished sobbing, he'd just sat there sort of catatonic. He hadn't moved from his fetal position, and when Daisuke has mentioned just killing the kid, because what the hell were they supposed to do with him? He hadn't moved, or made a sound. Touru sighed. It wasn't fair for the child, and he suddenly felt like a very evil person. If they hadn't kidnapped him, Mamoru wouldn't have learned about his father's uncaring, at least not for a long time. And ignorance was bliss, wasn't it?  
  
Besides, he had a brother he obviously loved. Suddenly the lights went black and before Touru could react, he felt something smash into the back of his head and everything go dim. When he woke up hours later, he would have a horrible headache, be just as poor as when all of this started, and would have to put up with Daisuke, who would be in a very sour mood.  
  
* * * *  
  
The child didn't know who had grabbed him, and he wasn't aware of where he  
  
was. He had spent the hours after the phone call in shut down mode, and the person who was Takatori Mamoru began to change.  
  
* * * *  
  
Hirofumi looked expectedly at his father, hoping he had news on his  
  
brother, that it had been some sort of ransom case and that it had been paid out, and Mamoru would be home in the morning.  
  
"Hirofumi, Masafumi, I want to let you know that the police found Mamoru's body in an abandoned warehouse at approximately midnight last night. We'll be holding the funeral on Wednesday," Reiji explained to them calmly, as if relaying that his youngest son's death was nothing more then a pig being put to the slaughter. Hirofumi glanced over at his brother, and was glad to see that even he seemed shocked and affected by the news. He was sure he wasn't bothered as much as him though. He could almost feel the pieces of his heart break into tiny slivers.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Do you remember who you are?"  
  
The golden hair child shook his head, looking dully up at the man with  
  
the brown eyes and short brown hair. His memory stirred and he was filled with a sense of deja vu, but it was brief and quickly covered up.  
  
"You are Tsukiyono Omi," The man, Persia, as he would later learn, told him simply and without flourish.  
  
And the happy, teasing child that had once been the youngest member of the Takatori family, a charming child with golden hair and vibrant blue eyes, was dead. And Tsukiyono Omi, for better or for worst, had been born in his place.  
  
  
  
End Chapter One!  
  
Well, what did you think? Did you like it? Chapter two will be coming out soon! (I hope!) Please send me comments and things like that! ^^ 


	2. The Second Change

Part II  
  
  
  
"Did you see the new kid?"  
  
":He's got blonde hair. I bet he's not even Japanese!"  
  
"Ewww! A gaijin!"  
  
"Look, his hair is all messed up, it doesnt even look like he brushes it!  
  
"Haha, weirdo! He looks like a girl!'  
  
Omi walked stiffly through the groups of other school kids that were filing towards the door after the bell that had marked the end of the day had rung. All of them had teased and laughed at him since the first day of school. He'd done nothing to incite them, he hadn't even said anything beyond good morning them, yet even before he'd done that he had heard whispers. At first he ignored it, thinking it must be a mistake. How could they tease someone they didn't even know?  
  
He didn't even know who he was.  
  
How could they have judged him already?  
  
He was lonely, all he wanted was someone who could be nice to him. Someone he could talk with. But he was denied even that.  
  
"Hey, Gaijin! Got anything to say to us today?" A mocking voice called out.  
  
They teased his quietness. He had nothing to say to them, and even when he uttered any sort of sound, a question to one of them, a statement, an attempt to stand up for himself, it was met with cruel laughter. They laughed at his exsistence . As Omi continued walking he realized that he hated all of them. They were monsters whom enjoyed being mean to him. They were hateful, and, Omi decided with the reasoning of any ten-year-old child, they were evil. He wanted them dead. If they were dead, they'd leave him alone.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Oh, Omi! You're home!" Momoes gentle voice wafted in from where she sat on her rocking chair. Her cat lay curled up in her lap, and she stroked it lovingly behind the ears. "I made you some cookies. They're in the kitchen if you'd like them. How was school?"  
  
Omi paused before he answered. "Same as ever, Obaasan," He replied, an automatic smile filling out on his face. He went to the kitchen and grabbed some of the cookies before joining Momoe on the porch.  
  
"That's good.. Do you have a lot of homework?"  
  
"Not that much," Omi finished his cookies, and after excusing himself, he headed towards his room. Momoe shook her head as she watched him go. He was so transparent, and Momoe had been around children long enough to know when they were in pain. Yet, she couldn't do anything for him if he wouldn't open up.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"Hirofumi, stop acting so despondent. You've been like this for weeks," Masafumi reprimanded has he poked his head through his brothers door. Much to Hirofumis surprise, Masafumis attitude had changed after Mamorus death. He didn't treat his Hirodumi so harshly now, and seemed even sympathetic. It made Hirofumi think that Masafumi might have actually cared about Mamoru, despite the show he put on. Maybe he really wasn't as cruel as he pretended.  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"Hirofumi, you can't cry over him forever."  
  
"Get out, Masafumi."  
  
"Pah. Youre hopeless," Masafumi stalked out, slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Hello, Omi! I brought a tape for you to watch todat Manx, the red headed woman smiled graciously down at the boy, the said video tape resting in her hand.  
  
"What's it called? He looked up from his school work. With no friends to hang out with and no TV shows to interest him, he felt he could excel in his work. Although he wouldn't openly admit it, his subconious realized that the children might respect him and even hold him in awe if he was the best.  
  
"Its called 'Empire of the Sun.'".  
  
"It's about Japan?" Omi looked curiously at Manx.  
  
"Its about an American boy who is taken as a P.O.W. during the war, actually," Manx continued before Omi could interject, "Its the story, not the situation. Persia reccomended it, and Momoe says you haven't had much to do lately."  
  
"Thank you, Manx-san," Omi said politely, taking the tape out of her hands.  
  
"Anything for you, Omi-kun! Hey, how is your English coming along?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Excellent! Oh, And Persia suggested we get you a computer. How would you like that?"  
  
"That would be great!" Omi's eyes suddenly lit up in the first real emotion Manx has seen all night. "I've heard they've made some real progressions with them. We even have some new ones at our school!"  
  
"Speaking of which, how is school coming along? I heard you have been doing well gradewise. Have you made any friends?" The red head smiled at Omi, unaware how much pain her innocent question caused her.  
  
"Some..." He lied, and then smiling disarmingly to discourage any questions she might have. Admitting he was teased daily would mean the adults would bother him, ask him about his feelings and try to make things better. He didn't want to share his thoughts with anyone, and he had a nagging feeling that adults couldn't fix anything, despite how hard they tried.  
  
"You'll have to invite them over some time, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Well, I'm going to go talk to Momoe and then go home. I'll see you later, okay, Omi-kun?  
  
"Okay. Bye, Manx!"  
  
"Byeee, Omi-kun!" The red head in her late teens sing-songed, tilting her head to the side, a smile on her heavily painted lips. She abruptly turned and left.  
  
* * * *  
  
"You're forming an assasin group?"  
  
"Under Kritiker," Persia nodded his head, confirming what Manx had asked.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I've realized that there are so many people who deserve to die for the crimes they've committed but end up getting away scotch free-- or nearly so- -due to technacalities in the law. I feel that as the Chief of Police, I'm somehow failing my job by letting these people go. They are evil, Manx, and their death would make the world a better place. I want to be able to die someday knowing that I at least attempted to do this."  
  
"What will it be called?"  
  
Weiss Kreuz. I already have the first member picked out."  
  
"You do? Who?"  
  
"Omi."  
  
There was a pause before Manx erupted. "Absolutely not! I will not let that boy's hands be stained with blood."  
  
"He won't be killing tomorrow. He has to be trained. It's going to take a while before he has to kill. Besides, if we bring him up the right way, he may not feel.as bad about it."  
  
"This is brainwash. You're going to destroy his childhood."  
  
"His childhood was destroyed when he realized his father didn't care about him. He has no childhood, he has no memories of his past. He doesn't want them. A person with no memories is formless. They have nothing to define them, no experiences. He can't even use his past as a support when his life seems troubled. He can;t float in nostalgia or fondly remember the time back when his father actually cared. He needs guidance and direction because his future is not the most hopeful one anyway."  
  
"But an assasin?" Manx demanded. Persia shrugged in response.  
  
"He'll get teammates. Perhaps they'll become good friends, maybe even brotherly. I can't be the family he wants."  
  
"He has friends now, he told me! Why can't you be his father?"  
  
"You are dismissed, Manx."  
  
"Persia!" Manx glared angrily at her superior, but when she received no answer from him, she turned abruptly, and stormed out.  
  
After she had left, Persia sighed, resting his head in folded hands. He could not ever imagine being put in a situation like Omi's. The child had survived, despite the fact that everything he believed in had been broken. His subconsious set up the only defense it knew and Persia had to pick up the pieces and delicately put them back together. The work would be tedious, but if he was careful and played the cards right, the kid would end up coming out okay in the end.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
The one who teased Omi the worst was Kentarou Yamamoto. He wasn't particulary large and he wasnt ugly or stupid. He didn't fit any of the sterotypes of most bullies, in fact. He was a leader, he knew what he wanted and he could counduct the other kids anyway he chose. They respected him because he could stand up for himself. But all children need someone to tease so that they can feel superior, and when it's the same person, then they could laugh at him TOGETHER, and somehow that made them feel even more superior. The only thing better then being able to talk about someone was to be able to have someone agree with you about it. And who cared about the kid on the receiving end? He was weird and he was different. Who cared if he had feelings?  
  
"Leave me alone, Kentarou!"  
  
"Or what? You'll hit me?" The dark haired boy laughed at this. He was met with stony silence. "You're too weak!"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"And you're so funny looking! Are you an American?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"I've never seen your parents, do you even have any? Maybe you just live in a box outside! Hey, everyone!" Kentarou called out suddenly to the other kids, "Omi lives in a box!"  
  
"I...I don't!"  
  
But he was only met with jeers and harsh laughter. Omi clenched his hand into a fist. He HATED them! He wished they would die, or that he could hurt them. But, he also wished he was normal like them, so that they would stop teasing.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"Here's your computer, Omi-kun!" Manx stepped out of the way as a man brought in a box that had a picture of the style stamped on the outside of it.  
  
"Thank you so much, Manx!" Omi smiled brightly, the feature almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face when not around his school mates.  
  
"Of course, Omi-kun!" Manx took a seat across from the young student, her face suddenly serious, "Omi, I have a question for you."  
  
"Okay..." Omi set his pencil down, curious by Manxs seriousness.  
  
"How would you like to be able to learn a weapon? I've been talking with Persia-san about it, and he thinks it would be good for you to be able to defend yourself." Of course, that wasn't the full story...  
  
"I think that would be great!" The blonde haired child smiled warmly, though it was tinged with another emotion. All he would need would be a small weapon to take down Kentarou Yamamoto. Maybe something long distance? He wouldn't kill him, just injure him enough...  
  
"We were thinking you would prefer something long range? Maybe a cross bow? Or darts?"  
  
"How about both?!"  
  
"Im sure that could be arranged," Manx nodded agreeably.  
  
"Okay!"  
  
* * *  
  
Omi quickly grew efficent with his computer and new weapons. In fact, his trainer was surprised about the determination, and consequently, success of the child. He became engrossed in the books from the library, and he watched the occasional movies Manx dropped by. He continued studying hard, excelling in his school work and becoming the top of his class. Yet, he stilled lacked the friends he desired so badly. With no one to truly talk to, he had no one to play ideas off or to tell him he was being stupid in a kind way. Thoughts echoed and rebounded within him, and he viewed every aspect as well as possible. But it wasn't good enough, and as the teasing continued with no outlet, his personality began to twist. Of course, they were largely internal changes, but they would also affect the way he acted towards others. It was a slow change, so that it was nearly unnoticable, but he was definetly changing.  
  
When Omi was fourteen, he was officially introduced to the world of Kritiker, and more importantly, as a member of Weiss.  
  
Omi's first mission was easy. It was set up as a practice run to test his skills as a computer hacker and his ability to manage himself under stress. All he had to do was find the name of the killer who had been hacking up the bodies of anyone he could find. There seemed to be no pattern, and the killer had the police stumped. Manx had gaurenteed that things would be decided from there. Of course, Omi was dubious about the whole thing, because after all, he wasn't a detective. However, Manx was convinced that the killer worked for an underground orginization, and it was up to Omi to find who. He sat disheartened at the computer, and after hours of typing and hacking with little success, he began to lose hope. He was tempted to give up and go to bed, to hell with Manx and Perisa and the whole Weiss business. Still, he WAS getting paid for this. As Omi finally ran out of any sembalance of patience, he landed on information.  
  
Jackpot.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
The young assasin sat patiently in the window of the condemned building that was across the street from the murderer's apartment. It hadn't taken much for Omi to convince himself this guy needed to be dead. He had seen the bodies of the people that had been mutilated. He had read up about their lives and knew they had families that had been tramutized by their deaths. It was unfair for them to suffer, and Omi knew that if he didn't kill this man now, more would be affected by it. It would be just as wrong to sit back and let that happen.  
  
As it turned out, this guy didn't work for any underground orginization. Not directly, anyway. He was the brother of someone who did, and who was fairly high up on the foodchain. Anyway, it had turned out that the group protected him and covered his tracks up. Omi didn't have to guess who his next targets would be.  
  
The blonde sighed heavily. This assasin work was *boring.* He spent the majority of his time waiting for things. He was also starting to get cold. Where WAS this guy? Just before he was going to get up to take a piss, there was movement out of the shadows across the street. Omi pulled the binoculers to his eyes and made sure it was target. He grinned when he saw it was, and readied his crossbow. Not wasting any time, he brought it up and quickly fired. There was a moment when nothing happened, and then his target lurched, pulling something at his throat. And then he collapsed. Omi felt two things. One was a shiver of success, thrilled that he'd done well on his first mission. The other was a forming dread like nothing he'd felt before as he realized he'd taken the life of a person. The man deserved it, there was no denying it, but did he have the right to play God? Life was precious, was he suppoused to take it away? Did two rights make a wrong? In this case, Omi decided, yes it did.  
  
And on that date, April 28, 1995, Tsukiyono became an angel of death 


	3. The Third Change

Hey! I know it's been a long time! So sorry, everyone! I hope some people still decide to read it, thoughhhh! Chapter III  
  
"I lift my eyes to the light of the future, the horizons shining with hope. I have found a friend." -Ted  
  
Hirofumi Takatori sighed heavily as he looked over all the paperwork he had to do. His father was planning on opening a 'hunting' grounds so to speak. However, the hunting targets would not be bears or deer or anything like that. Oh no, Reiji Takatori had much bigger aspirations. In order to 'excite' his business partners, and those on the political food chain, he chose humans to be the targets that the men could chase after. Of course, it would probably be a few more years before they had everything cleared up enough to be able to put it into place.  
  
In addition to the human hunting, Hirofumi had to smooth out all the problems that had risen with the human chess game. That was actually his own brainchild, and Hirofumi was quite proud of it. Although the first match would be in a couple of weeks, he was greatly anticipating it. He couldn't wait to see the people fight amongst themselves, terror would control the players, and Hirofumi was sure the majority of them would be overcome with their instincts, and the fighting would be frenzied and chaotic.  
  
And they would be destroyed and die slowly, the same way his brother had. In fact, the majority of what Hirofumi did were acts that he felt revenged his brother. He had decided to take up a fight against humanity because somewhere out there was the people who had killed his brother. By killing as many people as he could, he felt it was like killing those who had killed Mamoru. His hate had twisted and warped until most of the sanity left in him had been wrung out. He now carried the same fevered look in his eyes that both Masafumi and his father did.  
  
Indeed, it seemed that when Mamoru had died, so had he, though it had been much slower then his brothers.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Good morning, everyone!"  
  
"'Morning , Omi!"  
  
"Hello, Omi-kun!"  
  
Omi slid through the crowds of his high school easily, cries of 'good morning' calling back to him every time he saw a friend. Omi knew he was one of the most popular kids in school, a far stretch from the year before. It was amazing what switching a school could do. He was away from Kentaru, and the majority of his problems were now gone. Omi also realized that if he smiled all the time and acted happy, people were more likely to like him. People were attracted to those who radiated good feelings, because, he supposed, it made them feel good, too. He didn't have a best friend though, or anyone who came close. There was no one he could share his secrets with, no one he could talk to. He'd never be able to tell anyone his job as an assassin either, and if he pretended to be someone who he wasn't, it wouldn't be a true relationship anyway. Omi had also given up the idea of any sort of romance a long time ago. It would take so much to form one, and Omi felt that he didn't even have those sorts of feelings. There seemed to be some barrier in him that reacted whenever he tried to get close.  
  
The world was such a lonely place.  
  
* * * *  
  
"I think I've found the next member of Weiss, Manx."  
  
"Oh? Who is it?"  
  
"Heh, that's a secret."  
  
* * * *  
  
Omi was draped on the couch in front of the TV, his legs hung over the back and one of the arms. In his hand was the remote, and to try to appease his boredom he was flipping through channels. He would rest briefly on each channel before moving on, and much to his disappointment, this channel surfing wasn't making boredom any less. He paused for a minute, however, on a sports news channel. The reporter there was announcing some new scandal that involved a J-league team and some one of its players named Hidaka Ken. He was a harmless enough looking fellow, but Omi knew that didn't mean anything. However, it seemed almost out of character to what he'd heard about this guy. Hidaka Ken was popular among soccer fans because of his charismatic nature and the fact he was so easy going. According to the report, he was supposed to have rigged the games for gambling purposes. Omi shrugged, and continued flipping channels. Moments later he had forgotten entirely about the scandal and Hidaka Ken.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Omi?"  
  
"Something I can do for you Manx?" Omi grinned up at Manx from his place at the table where he was bent over school work. She stood in the doorway, and she held a neutral face with just a slight curve of her lips. However, she seemed a bit hesitant.  
  
"I would like to introduce you to the new member of Weiss."  
  
"What? I'm going to be working with someone else?" Omi's eyes widened. He'd never heard about any sort of partner previously. Instead of an answer, Manx stepped to the side, and a figure stepped into the place shed just vacated.  
  
"Hidaka Ken!" Omi's surprise grew even more.  
  
The soccer player nodded, a small smile on his face, "My reputation proceeds me?"  
  
"Well, yeah. You're a pretty popular member of the-"  
  
"Was," Ken responded, his features clouding up.  
  
"Um, yeah," Omi shrugged in apology.  
  
"I'll let you work everything out now," Manx broke in. She held out the file that was in her hand, "New mission. I'll tell you more about it as soon as the information becomes available. Do your best to research it."  
  
"We're not going to give time for Ken-kun to get used to everything?" Omi asked, surprised.  
  
"The mission isn't tonight, Omi. You guys have some time."  
  
"Oh, okay...well, bye Manx!"  
  
"See ya, Omi, Ken!" Manx smiled at them both as she left, closing the door behind her.  
  
Omi and Ken immediately began studying one another. Ken was lean and well muscled, and his eyes were a warm brown that radiated friendliness. Omi felt an immediate liking towards this ex J-leaguer. He seemed so open, so nice. Omi knew of course, not to be deceived, and that Ken, like all people, held secrets. Of course, there was that whole scandal deal that hung over Kens head, but Omi immediately wanted to believe it had been all some sort of set up.  
  
Ken studied his new partner closely. He seemed way too young for this job, and his smile seemed so genuine. But, there was also something lacking there, something that Ken couldn't quite place, but that he knew was missing. Omi's eyes were a bright cerulean blue, and that added onto his honey colored hair made Ken doubt that Omi was Japanese. Sure, the hair could be done easy enough, but the eyes? There was something in his eyes, too, that Ken couldn't place. They sparkled sure enough, but they seemed almost haunted and sad. That conflicted so badly with all the other signs that Omi gave off, that Ken discredited it as a figment of his imagination.  
  
Absently, Ken wondered how Omi had gotten into this organization, especially since he was so young! His face was so bright, too, for someone who had been killing. The kid was an enigma, that was for sure. Perhaps when they became better acquainted, Omi would tell his story. Then, maybe, Ken would tell his too.  
  
"Would you like something to eat? To drink?" Omi suddenly broke Ken from his thinking, and Ken hurried to catch up with the boy already heading towards the kitchen.  
  
"Sure, that'd be nice!" Ken followed Omis lead, taking in his surroundings at the same time. It was so odd that the front they put up was a flower shop. Such a weird facade. Then again, who would think two flower boys by day would be assassins by night?  
  
* * * *  
  
Ken sat at the table, sipping at the hot tea Omi had set in front of him. Tea wasn't his favorite beverage, but Omi's was made quite well. When Ken did it, he usually managed to soak the little bags too long, so that the tea would end up tasting bitter. At first the conversation was quite mundane, but Omi broke that too.  
  
"What's your weapon of choice?" Omi asked, a smile still present on his face.  
  
"Um, Bugnucks," Ken replied after hesitating. The question had caught him offgaurd. "Yours?"  
  
"Crossbow and darts," Omi nodded, his hands wrapped around his cup. It seemed so odd to be talking about these sorts of things in such a peaceful place.  
  
"Manx said we had a mission?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm going to have to on the computer later and look into what info she gave me. The real fun doesn't begin until Persia comes on."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Come on, I'll show you," Omi abruptly got up with his tea which he promptly put on the counter, "I'll take you to our head quarters!"  
  
* * * *  
  
"Um, the downstairs?" Ken frowned slightly. This wasn't exactly what he'd call a headquarters.  
  
"Well, it's convenient..."Omi said, slightly defensive. After all, this WAS his home. "Anyway, This is my computer," Omi motioned proudly to the PC tucked away in the corner. "And that's the screen where Persia gives us more information," Omi motioned to that too. "Manx comes back when that happens."  
  
"So what do we do until then?"  
  
"What do you like to do?"  
  
"Well...play soccer...But first Id like to get settled in."  
  
"Of course! I can help you put things away if you'd like," Omi beamed, his smile unwavering. Ken had never seen anyone beside children smile so much, and with so much seeming innocence. It was so out of place, it was almost eerie. But the young assassin was overflowing with charisma, and any feelings other then friendliness were quickly eradicated.  
  
"That'd be cool," Ken agreed as he mounted the steps again to go to the top floor. Omi bounded up behind him.  
  
The two spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know one another. As the sun set in the west and Omi began preparing dinner, the two had already grown quite comfortable with the other and talked easily. Of course, Omi had to answer some of his questions half truthfully, and he always brushed questions about his family off. Ken was much more open regarding all things, and he didn't seem to mind that Omi had secrets to keep. They were tentative friends, and he was in no position to know the dark secrets that Omi held. Still, it would be hard to build a friendship on half-truths and shadows. It was when they were cleaning the kitchen up and Omi was showing Ken where all the things went when Manx waltzed through the doors.  
  
"Manx-san!"  
  
"Hello, Omi-Kun, Ken-kun," She paused for a minute before putting on a mocking scowl, "I assume neither of you researched?"  
  
"Eh...heh...Sorry, Manx! But, you DID say it wasn't today."  
  
"I shouldn't expect anything better then that from you anyway..." Manx sighed, but the grin on her face gave her away.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Well, Persia has your mission details for you, anyway," Manx told them as she headed towards the downstairs. Ken and Omi followed closely behind her.  
  
* * *  
  
Ken sat down heavily on the couch, all color drained from his face. Omi turned from the screen to look at the soccer player. He seemed almost completely unaffected and Ken wondered if the life of an assassin had jaded this guy so quickly.  
  
"How can...?"  
  
"It's not that major, Ken-kun. I've seen worse," Omi explained matter of fact.  
  
"Not major? That son of a bitch just murders people for the hell of it! How can he do that? Why don't the police do anything? What's his name? Toshiya? I'm gonna kill the bastard..." He turned wildly to Manx. She shrugged lightly.  
  
"They're being over worked. It should be quite easy, Omi had a first case much like this one. If it's possible, try to eliminate the target tonight."  
  
"But we haven't researched it at all. I don't even know where to find him," Omi protested. "And what about his chance to settle in?"  
  
"If you check in the file, you'll find the address. Persia pushed this mission up. He feels there will be another kill tonight. Also, there seems to be something big developing, and this mission needs to be gotten out of the way."  
  
* * * *  
  
Omi reviewed the police reports made concerning Toshiya. There was more to the target then just being a murderer too, Omi noticed. All of his victims were women, and all of them had some body part taken. An eye from one, an arm from another. It wasn't patterned at all, but Omi figured they'd find out why the man did that after they killed him.  
  
"Ken-kun?"  
  
"Hmm?" Ken looked up from the magazine he was reading. He felt guilty for goofing off while Omi was working, but after attempts at sorting out information in the file Manx had given them, and only managing to rearrange all the stuff Omi has set out carefully, he was told to sit down. So, Ken had left it up to Omi to gather all the information. It seemed something he was used to doing, so why argue with a plan that works?  
  
"Are you up for killing tonight?"  
  
"To get rid of that bastard? I'm ready now!"  
  
"Well, that's the spirit..."Omi swiveled around in his chair and stood up, stretching, "Because you're going to make your first kill tonight."  
  
* * * *  
  
The pair crept quietly into the large building where Toshiya was supposed to be staying late. It was a standard cubicle filled building, one of those private rent ones, so it was only a few floors high. Omi shuddered to think that a murderer worked among all the other people. They didn't even suspect it, either! He might even pretend to be normal and get along with his co-workers. It made him think: how many other people who worked here pretended to be someone else? Everyone, he supposed.  
  
"This is sort of spooky..." Ken said into the headset, but none to quietly.  
  
"Shhh, Siberian!"  
  
"Oh...right, sorry!"  
  
"Looking for someone?" A voice growled from behind Omi. The young assassin felt his stomach drop to his feet at that instant. He whirled around, bringing up his crossbow as the man brought his own knife down. The two weapons met with a dull thunk, and Omi dove out of the way as he caught the flash of a weapon in the other hand.  
  
"What?!" Omi asked, mouth agape.  
  
"You're not the only one who watches. How did you think I got this far? Not by remaining ignorant."  
  
Omi got over his shock, and he quickly hurled his darts at the murderer. His aim was perfect, but his opponent was no longer there. Omi looked around wildly, how could anyone move so fast? "Siberian!" Omi yelled into the headset as a warning as he a first crashed into his head from behind. He stumbled forward, crossbow up, finger ready on the trigger.  
  
"How'd you ever managed to get this far as an assassin?" The dark man chided Omi, but before the golden-haired boy could respond, Toshiya launched forward. Omi loosed his darts quickly, and they both landed home, but before he could pull forth more, his opponent was upon him. Omi had been trained in hand to hand combat as well as his basic weapon, because it was understood that he could get caught without his darts. It was all he could do, however, to keep Toshiya's blades off of him. The older man was much stronger then he, and had the superior position. "Even if you win, I've got this place loaded with explosives," Toshiya said through clenched teeth, a dark smile on his face.  
  
"Siberian...get out!" Omi cried into the headset, worry for his team mate holding precedence over his own well being.  
  
"Shutup!" Toshiya yelled. Omi winced when he took a hit to the face, and to his horror he realized the headset had broken sometime during the beginning of the fight. Its plastic shards dug into his cheek. Omi suddenly brought his knee up with as much force as he could manage. He hit with unerring aim and Toshiya's face crumpled in pain, one hand immediately going to hold his crotch. Omi took this as his opportunity, and pushed Toshiya off of him. He readied his darts, but Toshiya had recovered faster then he thought, and just as he hurled the darts, he felt a burning pain across his chest. Both men staggered back, Omi's hand going to the blood welling from the long gash; Toshiya to his throat. It was a fatal hit, and Toshiya promptly crumpled, but not before triggering something within his vest.  
  
There was a loud noise, and Omi was rocked off his feet, the world suddenly twisting and turning upside down. The wall behind him blocked his fall, also managing to knock his breath out of him. He struggled to get up when part of the ceiling collapsed, the glass from the lights breaking on his leg. He struggled to pull it off of him, but he was stuck in a bad position, the timbers having successfully trapped him beneath them. Smoke filled the room, and he coughed as the acrid exhaust filled his nose. He struggled, but pain shot up through his body and he knew he couldn't get out, he was stuck in too bad of a position. Minutes ticked by, and a feeling of doom filled him. Around him the room burned and more of the building fell. Omi tried to curl himself into a ball to protect himself from the fire.  
  
He wasn't going to die, was he? No! That was impossible, he couldn't die! Things were finally looking up for him! He was enjoying school, he was succeeding...and more importantly he had the makings of a close friendship with Ken. He'd never had the chance before, there was no way he had to leave it all. Besides, even though living had the habit of going badly, at least he had a grasp on the situation. He couldn't even grasp the concept of death. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay here. He had too!  
  
But it was becoming hard to breathe with all the smoke, and the fire singed his skin.  
  
Well, bad things happened to bad people, didn't it? And it was fair to say that he had it coming, considering all the people he'd murdered. He deserved it, he couldn't argue with that. But he didn't want to! Of course, none of the people he had killed had wanted to, either. Why should he get what he denied others?  
  
Ken was still out there, and he hoped he got out okay. He would be the only member of Weiss now, but that was part of the job description. But even then...  
  
Omi sighed, closing his eyes, unable to stand the irritating smoke any longer. Tears fell from his face, and he wasn't sure if it was from the smoke or from the pain he felt welling up inside of him.  
  
He had begun to give up, letting go of his consciousness , sobs wracking his body. When he heard a scuffling noise nearby, he discredited it to more of the ceiling falling.  
  
"Heya, Omi," A soft voice said from next to him. Omi's blue eyes shot open, unbelieving.  
  
"Ken-kun?" Omi gasped, "I thought...You should have gotten out!"  
  
"And leave my partner and my friend behind? I'd never be able to live with myself if I had," Ken said with a smile on his face, doing his best to alleviate the situation. After a moment of taking in the situation, he began pulling the beams off Omi. "Anything broken?"  
  
"I don't know..."  
  
"Jesus!" Ken exclaimed, as he pulled the debris of the cheap ceiling off the golden-haired assassin. Omi, whose face was already drawn in pain seemed to pale even more at the sight of his legs. They seemed to be one big bloody, pulpy mess, glass shards caught in his legs glinted when the light from the fire caught them. Omi shifted slightly, and groaned in pain at the movement. Ken knelt next to him and gently fit his arms beneath his partner. With great care, he lifted Omi up, hugging him to his chest.  
  
"Ken-kun?"  
  
"It's time we get out of here. You just relax, I'll do the rest, Ken smiled down at Omi."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because you're my friend. That's why."  
  
In Kens arms, Omi eventually lost consciousness, but as he lay tucked into Kens chest, despite the pain caused by the running and jumps and dodges as Ken made it out of the building, the young assassin was filled with an inner peace as he realized he would never be alone again, for now, finally, he had someone whom he could trust, and who would trust him back.  
  
~End ~ Well, I'm reallllly sorry it's taken so long to update! I hope some people still read it! -.-; Anyway, I don't know if I should end it here, or go ahead and add Yohji and Aya's joining. Some of you might think Omi and Ken might have became friends too quickly. No! Actually, I think if you were someone as lonely as Omi, and someone was thrown into the same situation, you would attach rather quickly! And Ken? He's just nice like that, to the point of being naïve. Oh, also for those who felt Omi joined Weiss too quickly.I think a child without direction, and with hate building up towards someone to the point of wishing his antagonist would die, and with no friends to ridicule this, or relieve his pain would eagerly join an organization that gives him direction. Besides, his desire for long distance weapons is valid. It'd be easier to kill people and maybe not get caught. (His fantasies about Kentaru) Being young, he probably wouldn't recognize the consequence of his decision. Of course, I'm not saying Omi would've gone ahead and murdered the kid harassing him. There's a big difference between wishing and going through with. Even he recognizes that. 


End file.
